


Touch Sensitive

by happyeverafter72



Category: Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Age Difference, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyeverafter72/pseuds/happyeverafter72
Summary: Older Holmes, younger Watson AU. Watson has body image issues. Holmes thinks he is too old.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Kudos: 38





	Touch Sensitive

The evening had, Watson reflected, got somewhat out of hand. The relationship between him and Holmes had moved beyond friendship some while before, but they had agreed to take it slowly. Now, on a high after completing a case, soft kisses and cuddles had become more heated. Holmes lifted Watson with ease and carried him to the bedroom. Eager hands fumbled with shirt buttons and grabbed at material until both men were bare-chested. 

Holmes’ lithe, slender fingers skimmed over Watson’s back as he kissed the younger man. When his fingers brushed against the scar tissue on Watson’s shoulder, Watson sprang away like he had been shocked. 

“Oh, my darling, have I hurt you?” Holmes asked in alarm. 

“No, no, it’s nothing,” Watson stammered, scrambling back into his shirt. “I - I should go.” 

He ran up the stairs to his bedroom and slammed the door. Leaning against it, he breathed hard. How could he have thought he could have a physical relationship with Holmes? Holmes was amazing, stunningly handsome, whilst he was hideous. The scarring on his shoulder and leg was disgusting. Holmes would probably never want to look at him again. He would have to move out and lose the greatest happiness he had ever known because he couldn’t control himself. 

He couldn’t stop the tears from coming. He lay down on his bed and sobbed bitterly into the pillow. 

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Holmes should have called Watson back, he knew. He had been stunned by the abruptness of the change in the younger man. It had felt so good, kissing Watson, feeling the muscles that made up his body. How had he allowed himself to lose control to such an extent that he had tried to make their relationship physical? He was too old to be attractive to someone like Watson, who could have his pick of pretty young women. 

He buried his head in his pillow and groaned. He had gone too far, and Watson had been disgusted by him. Now, Watson would want to leave, and Holmes would lose the greatest happiness he had ever known. 

Knowing that no sleep would come to him that night, he left his bedroom and filled his pipe. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 

In the morning, both men were awkward around each other. Very little conversation, outside of the usual pleasantries, occurred. Watson took himself off to his practice after breakfast. He determined that, after finishing morning surgery, he would start to look for new accommodation. Looking through the papers over lunch, he found several places to view. 

When he returned to Baker Street in the evening, Mrs Hudson informed him that Holmes had also just got back. Thanking her, he continued up to the sitting room. 

“Have you got a new case, Holmes?” he asked as he walked through the door. 

“It was easily solved, Watson,” Holmes replied, looking up from his chair by the fire. “You have been viewing other lodgings, I perceive.” 

“Yes, I have.” 

“You have determined to leave, then?” 

“I really think I better had, dear chap,” Watson said sadly. “It would be best for both of us.” 

Holmes gave a sad smile. “Perhaps you are right.” He paused for a moment, contemplating what to say. “I shall miss you.” 

Watson shook his head. “You do not need to pity me, Holmes.” His shoulders slumped. “I know I must disgust you.” 

Holmes was stunned. “What on earth led you to that conclusion?” 

“You saw the scars on my shoulder,” Watson replied hollowly. “My leg is no better. My body is disgusting.” 

“That is why you flinched away from me last night?” 

Watson nodded. 

Holmes left his chair and moved to stand before Watson. “My dear John,” he said with a soft smile. “You are far from disgusting. On the contrary, you are magnificent.” He reached for the younger man’s hand and was relieved when Watson didn’t pull away. “Your scars tell the story of what brought you to me. I could never be disgusted by that. I thought that you ran away because you had realised your mistake in taking up with someone my age.” 

Watson laughed with relief and twined his fingers with Holmes’. “My dear Sherlock, being with you could never be a mistake. You know it is my greatest joy and pleasure to be by your side.” 

Holmes held out his arms. “Come here,” he said warmly. 

They wrapped their arms around each other, holding tight. After a few moments, Watson reached up to kiss Holmes. In that moment, both knew that they were safe and secure in each other.


End file.
